


Bad Romance

by t1gerlilly



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Band, Dean is a guitar playing fool, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 01:18:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4285218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t1gerlilly/pseuds/t1gerlilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Band AU in which Castiel quits the band when Dean kisses him and then tries to make it into nothing. Will Cas quit music entirely, because he can't stand pining after Dean? Will Dean finally realize he has to step up if he wants to be truly happy?<br/>Also, I usually use kudos to figure out if I'll finish a fic, so if you want to see the ending, please feed the animals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Last night. Final tour date.

In the darkness before the lights came up, Dean was cradling his guitar, his eyes shut, images from the day playing bright and perfect behind his eyelids. He'd woken up to Cas singing into the dawn as they approached Boston. They'd been doing six-hour driving shifts since Ohio, the rest of the band and their gear having gone ahead by plane. Dean wouldn't fly and Cas wouldn't let him drive alone, which was lucky, since he was the only one Dean would let drive Baby, his sweet black and chrome '67 Chevy Impala, besides his brother Sam.  
They'd had breakfast at the Rosebud, a tiny streetcar diner with a bitchin' breakfast burrito, and then kept driving up the coast. They'd stopped over the border in New Hampshire to buy fireworks, Dean cackling happily as he loaded sparklers and roman candles into the trunk.  
In late August, it was a treat to roll down the windows and feel the sunshine and cool ocean breeze, the curvy coastal road unwinding smoothly beneath his wheels. Cas was sleepy in the summer heat beside him, flushed and tan, his hair a spiky mess and his eyes half-lidded in lazy pleasure. He'd been looking down at Cas when the first chords of a new song came to him, inspiration hitting him so fast and hard he'd had to stop the car on the shoulder of the road to write it down and then shake a napping Cas awake so he could sing it to him. Cas had tilted his head, listening to Dean croon the wordless melody . Then he sang it back to him, but starting with a low moan that made Dean's eyes widen and his breath come fast. He nodded and said nothing when Cas squirmed into the back seat to retrieve his notebook. He flopped down on the grassy embankment until Cas signalled he was ready.  
“Got anything?” Dean asked, as he climbed back in the car. Cas looked at Dean, his gaze intense. “It just came to me. The whole thing.” he said quietly. Dean raised his eyebrows. Usually it took Cas weeks to get a lyric he liked and even longer to polish it up.  
“Let's hear it.”  
Cas sang the whole thing through, with words for all of it. It was perfect. Dean just shook his head at the last note. Cas waited for Dean's usual flood of snarky comments.  
“That's it. That's the song. Don't change a thing.”  
Cas stared at him for a moment, taking in the almost dazed look in his eye. “We need to get back on the road.” he offered after a moment.  
“You think it's done?”  
“I want to work on the phrasing after a second chorus. But yeah” he echoed softly, “it's perfect.”  
“Good. Because we're putting it in the show tonight.”  
Cas raised his eyebrows and then shrugged.  
They'd sung it through about fifty times on the road, tweaking things here and there. But when they'd pulled in to the venue in late afternoon, they were both satisfied, lulled into an easy silence and soft smiles.  
There was enough time to check into a motel and face plant for a nap before meeting up with the rest of the band to eat lobster rolls on the boardwalk. They were playing in the open-air concert stage of a seaside town – a larger venue than they usually booked, and Benny and Garth laid bets on whether they'd fill it. To take their minds off it, Dean had dragged them all to an empty parking lot and shot off the fireworks he'd bought earlier, using his phone to make a video and send it to Sam.  
Sam had called back, laughing, and they'd talked over happy memories.  
“You always were a pyro.”  
“Like mom used to say, Sammy, salt and burn.”  
“It's a miracle you ever learned how to make pie.”  
They got quiet then, both remembering her, and Dean looked up to see Cas smiling softly at him. He drew in a breath and said goodbye to Sam.  
They'd had just enough time before soundcheck to teach the guys the new song. It was rough, but mostly him and Cas anyway, though Garth had come up with a few variations on the bass line as they ran through it.  
Now Dean shifted from foot to foot in the blue-tinged darkness. He felt warm to his bones with the sunshine and laughter of the day. Everything felt loose and right. He just knew they were going to put on a hell of a show. He could hear Benny working up the crowd. “We've got a special treat for you. We're starting the show with a completely new song. You heard it here first.” There was a good sized roar back at him. His heart lifting, he looked over at Cas, who grinned back. It sounded like they'd packed the joint.  
Then Cas stalked across the stage, singing the first note in a gravelled whisper that swelled and hardened into a primal snarl. A note of electricity travelled up his spine and he heard Benny swear behind him, then they all came in together, as though they'd played it forever. Dean smirked. It was gonna be a great show.


	2. Midconcert. Final tour date. Filthy kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean just can't help himself. Not when Cas is right there in front of him.

“Damn, that boy is on tonight.” Benny said, indicating Cas with a nod.  
Dean said nothing, grabbing a couple water bottles from his bag. They were taking a breather while the owner of the venue talked to the crowd. Dean hadn't been able to take his eyes off Cas all night. He'd prowled and strutted, his voice soaring and rumbling in turns.  
“Sex on a stick” Garth offered. “What the hell got into him?”  
“Don't know, but the crowd sure seems to like it.” Benny said. “No way he's going home alone if he doesn't want to.”  
Dean said nothing, still staring at Cas, who stared back for a moment from the other side of the stage, where he was fixing the amp. Dean made a beeline for him.  
“You look hot.” he said. “Want a water?” He tossed a water bottle at him, then upended his own, gulping it down and letting the water gush over his chin. Cas just watched, mouth opening a little, his eyes dipping to follow the long line of his throat and soaking shirt.  
“Hot.” Cas licked his lips. "Yeah". In a single, graceful movement he removed his shirt. Then he took the water bottle Dean had given him and poured it over his head and chest. Dean was transfixed, watching the water drip down a mesmerizing path.  
“Dean?”  
“Yeah? " Dean struggled to focus, realizing Cas was talking to him.  
“I'm thinking our last song should be our first - the one I was singing when I met you. Sound good?”  
“Hell, yeah. Good way to go out for this tour. It's been a great show. You've been... amazing tonight. Benny and Garth were just saying.“ Dean muscled into Cas's personal space. He didn't want anybody overhearing.  
“You think?” Cas asked shyly, looking up at him. Time slowed down and Dean found himself between breaths, leaning into Cas's blue eyes, close enough to count his lashes. Dean's eyes fell to his pillowy mouth. Then he was kissing Cas. He twined his fingers in Cas's wet hair, his mouth soft but insistent. Cas pressed against him, kissing him back, skin warm and slick, tongue twining with his own. Dean was dazed and breathless when he stepped back. Cas was flushed and his eyes wide.  
“What was that, Dean?” he asked quietly.  
Cas was serious, looking at Dean, and suddenly the full weight of what he'd done came home to him. So he did what he always did. He gave Cas a cocky smile and a wink.  
“Ahhh. Nothin'. Good luck for the final set.” Dean choked off a laugh, exhilarated and guilty.  
Cas drew back as though he'd been slapped. Something dark as grief swelled in his eyes and he turned his head toward the stage. Without speaking, he reached down to grab his shirt and turned his back to Dean, pulling the shirt roughly over his head.  
“We'd better get back to it then.” he said, but there was something immeasurably wrong in his tone.  
“Cas?” Dean asked, feeling something claw his gut. “We okay here?”  
But Cas had already walked away.


	3. Late at night. Final concert. Bad Romance.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want your drama  
> The touch of your hand  
> I want your leather-studded kiss in the sand  
> I want your love  
> 

In the darkness, Dean can barely make out Cas running ahead of him on the beach, until the crack and flash of lightning illuminates him for a second. With a full moon riding low on a roil of stormclouds, the whole world looks like it's turned into liquid metal. Dean doesn't stop running, even though he knows Cas can outrun him if he really wants to. He's joined Cas on enough early morning runs to know that, but also enough to push past the ache in his chest and the leaden feeling in his legs.  
He feels like he's been running forever. Something about the last song had been wrong from the moment Cas started to sing. The punishing beat of the song felt like blows, with Cas crying out the lyrics as though he had been struck. His singing had slowed, the band following his lead until he held up a hand and they stop playing. Alone, he kept singing, the words painful and slow, until his voice cracked and died, the last words mumbled and broken. There was a well of deep silence, for a moment, and then the audience exploded, stamping and screaming. Cas hid his head and headed off stage. The guys looked at Dean, who shook his head. He headed over to Benny. "Play us out, would ya? I don't think he's coming back for an encore." "Sure thing, brother." Dean bolted for the back stage, searching for Cas. If he'd been even a moment slower he would have missed seeing him slip out the side door and take off running down the beach.  
He'd known then that something was seriously wrong, his breath catching in his throat. Without thinking he'd taken off after him. It was strangely beautiful along the surf, his legs pumping and chest aching for breath, Cas's lean figure elusive before him, dark and shining.  
Dean caught up to Cas when he stopped to strip off his shirt. From the back, Dean can't help but notice muscular arms and shoulder blades sharply curved as angel wings. He’s thin from too much time spent on the road, leather pants riding low, eyes dark with smudged eyeliner, hair a mess. Then Cas turns to face him, glowing silver with the moonlight, an emotion Dean has never seen before on his face, raw and desperate.  
“Leave me alone, Dean.”  
“Forget the kiss, Cas. “ Dean cajoles, eyes fixed on Cas's. “I'm sorry. I got carried away. It doesn't have to mean anything. Nothing's changed. ”  
“Carried away?” Cas stops. “ Doesn't matter. I just can’t do this anymore.” Cas said, eyes wide and dark as the sea, the growling purr of his voice rough with emotion.  
Dean swallowed. He sounded broken. Standing there, poised for flight, moonlight sinuously tracing the lean lines of sinew and bone, he was beautiful. Dean put one hand out in front of him, a gesture that said, 'wait.' Cas turned his head away, refusing to look at him, but still listening.  
“I don't know what you're saying. But I'm sorry. It'll never happen again. “ Dean stopped, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat.  
Cas turned and looked at him, eyes bleak, and he nodded once. Then he ran, sprinting forward against the sand, heading straight for the waves.  
Dean chased after him, heart pounding with effort, fear starting to churn in his gut. He'd seen that look once before , though never on Cas's face. But he can’t keep up with Cas, who runs every day, who runs like he's trying to escape his demons. Cas runs until he falls, lying in the surf and Dean flings himself down next to him. Cas gets up on one elbow, staring at him. Dean holds his breath as Cas reaches out to touch his face, then pushes him down and levers himself over Dean, stretching his full length over him and taking his face between his hands, kissing him.  
Dean melts into it, then watches, eyes disbelieving, as Cas rolls off and sits up. He props himself up on one arm and touches his mouth, eyes soft, then focuses on the figure striding away from him and realizes Cas is waist deep in the ocean and not stopping.


	4. Today. The Hospital. At first sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean remembers how he and Cas first met

Dean hated waiting in hospitals. It reminded him of the summer after Jess died, when Sam just broke down. He’d stopped eating – stopped everything. Dean had just kept his head down, believed Sam when he said he was fine. He still didn’t know why Sam had confided in Cas that he couldn’t sleep because he’d been hearing voices. He’d been batshit when Cas had committed Sam to a mental institution. They’d had a knock-down drag out fight.  
In the end though, it had worked out alright. Dean had been astonished when they told him what was wrong with Sammy .  
“A vitamin B deficiency? Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously? All he has to do is take his vitamins?” He’d been so relieved to get him back that he’d never complained about Sam’s salads again. Eventually he’d had to admit that Cas had been right to do what he did. But the betrayal had stung. Neither of them had bothered to talk to him. They didn’t need him.  
Shaking off the memory, Dean went into the bathroom and splashed some water on his face, his eyes catching on his image in the mirror. Instead of the freckled face of a boy, thin arms covered to hide purpling bruises, pretty and angry, he saw a man he still didn’t recognize.  
After Gabriel started drawing dicks on his face with permanent marker in the middle of one of their prank wars – usually with a curt comment of “Insert here, Cas”, he’d started growing out his side burns. Almost grown out now, he’d gotten the Mohawk on a whim. When Cas first saw it; the expression on his face had been priceless. Dean smirked, remembering, and suddenly he looked like himself again, that same cocky smile on the face of a grown man, healthy and tan, pierced and stubbled, cutoff shirt showing off serious muscle and the tattoos that Cas had designed for him, including his own handprint, a tribute to the day they met.  
Dean only half remembers that first meeting. He was a skinny fifteen year old in a basement club, a tipsy lightweight, having not eaten anything that day and stolen someone’s shot from the bar. The band had been using pyrotechnics, and he’d looked up to see a blue-eyed face growling on stage, swirling a tan trenchcoat around his lean frame, long fingers gripping the mic and leaning into the crowd as gold-white sparks flew. The stage lights in the smoky atmosphere made the man’s face glow like an angel and he’d been drawn irresistibly forward. He danced as he went, barely noticing as the figures around him started to thrash and bounce. Undeterred, he’d made his way into the pit and right up to the lip of the stage before he’d gotten clocked by some asshole’s elbow flying into his face. His nose had broken and he’d started to sway, everything going hazy, and then a bright light swept over him and that face was suddenly there and he reached out for it, not even knowing what he was doing, surprised to find his hand gripped and then himself pulled bodily up on stage, where he promptly passed out.  
He learned later that Cas had just kept singing with him passed out at his feet, and when the crowd got more violent, cut the music and pulled him off stage in a fireman’s carry.  
When he woke up, Cas was watching him, his blue eyes intense and ringed with dark eyeliner, hair stuck up in tufts, ink peeking out of the collar of his sweat-sodden white button up. This close Dean could see he was younger than he’d seemed on stage, maybe nineteen or twenty. Dean never really knew why Cas kept him, why he invited him to practice the next day or why he started teaching him guitar. He just knew he’d found somewhere he could go when he had to get out of the house. When he picked up the guitar, something clicked – the weight of it, the soft sound of the strings, even the pain of it, when he practiced til his fingers bled.  
He’d had a mouth on him, and he’d harassed Cas unmercifully, not knowing how to trust his kindness. He’d made fun of his ‘Holy Tax Accountant’ outfit, scoffing when Cas just tilted his head and said that being punk was about more than sticking your tongue out – it was about not letting other people define you. He’d fought with Gabriel, even after Cas got Gabe to give him a part time job at the Goth Shop – Gabriel’s tiny shop with tattoo, piercing, and hair styling options for the alternative crowd. Castiel was working part time as a tattoo artist between gigs then, since the band hadn’t taken off. Eventually, he'd pushed him too far, and Cas had growled at him to show him some respect; he’d pulled him from the pit and he could throw him back. Dean knew he deserved it and strangely, it had made him feel safe. He'd known then, what Cas would do if he was mad and he'd known he cared.  
Dean quirked a rueful smile, remembering. It had also been hella hot: the full-body wave of heat those words produced had been his first undeniable indication that he might be into guys.  
The next year, Cas had been his first call when his dad had thrown him out. He’d taken him in and let him crash in his and Gabriel’s tiny apartment until they’d been able to get Sammy out. By then he’d started working for Gabe full time and writing songs. Well, parts of songs. Snatches. Whispers. Phrases that he couldn’t get out of his head, but couldn’t put together. Til one day Cas noticed and listened and sat down in front of him and demanded “Show me what you’ve got.” Somehow, together, Cas bridged his gaps, pulled harmony out of him, found words for his pain and then...they’d made a song. Dean loved it. Cas loved it too, though it wasn’t like Cas’s usual stuff, more like classic rock than punk, but Cas had added it to the band playlist anyway. Along with every one of the songs they'd written together in the past six years.


	5. Two weeks ago. Band's practice space. Heart of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean hears something he wasn't meant to and maybe it changes him a little.

Dean didn’t mean to overhear. His guitar straps had tangled and he’d picked a dark corner to untangle them, because he loved doing it by touch alone. Cas was out being wined and dined by a label exec, who’d seemed really interested, and he wanted to hang out til Cas got back to find out what happened.   
“Get in here.” He heard Cas say and the sound of the door shutting.  
“So you did turn him down?” Gabriel asked, clearly upset. Dean stilled, listening.  
“Yes.”  
“What were you thinking, man? This is your dream. It’s been what you’ve been working for since before Naomi the step-bitch kicked us out.”  
“I couldn’t do it.”  
“Why? He told me what he was gonna offer you. Three album deal, your choice of producer, guaranteed touring overseas. What could you have possibly wanted?”  
“He didn’t want the band. He just wanted me as a solo act.”  
“Seriously? And you let that stop you? I mean, you’re gonna have to replace me anyways if this blows up – I’ve got the shop and I’m not leaving it. Garth? You know he’d be cool. And Benny’s a great guy, but he’s not exactly the world’s greatest drummer. And plenty of bands would snatch Dean up… oh. THAT’s what it is. It’s Dean.”  
There was a long pause.   
“I couldn’t do that to him.”  
“So that’s it. You’re going to give all that up for one guy. Your dream. Your chance to make Naomi eat her words – everything. For him?”  
“I can’t do that to him. You know how I feel.”  
Dean’s breath caught, eyes going wide.   
“Oh, yeah. I know.”  
“He’s my best friend.”  
Gabe laughed. “Right. And that’s all he’s ever gonna be.”  
Dean heard the door swing open.  
“Cas! Cas. I’m sorry….” He heard Gabe say, following Cas out of the room.   
Dean tried to breathe, but his chest was too tight.


	6. Today. The Hospital. The road so far.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Dean and Cas have gotten to where they are

It’s not like their friendship was picture perfect. Dean was too much of a mess for that, even if Cas hadn't been all that he was. After John kicked him out, Dean had started getting drunk every night and it had escalated quickly. When Gabe fired him for coming in sloppy drunk one too many times, he’d decided he might as well sell himself, just to prove he was worth something.   
Sitting in the tight plastic chair provided by the hospital, Dean bit his hand, remembering. It was a habit he'd picked up from his brother after Sam got out of the mental institution. Supposed to distract you from bad thoughts.   
God he’d been a stupid kid. Cas had followed him, saw him approached by a john and scared the guy off. Then they’d squared off, him too stupid to accept he needed help and Cas too stubborn to let him be that stupid. They’d fought. Dean, drunk and sick, hadn’t been able to get in a single decent shot before he’d just collapsed, telling Cas to give up on him, to just leave him – or finish it – tell him he was done.   
Cas hadn’t said a word, just dragged him home and patched him up. Then refused to talk to him for four days. Dean had expected yelling or even a beating, but that stony silence behind hurt blue eyes got to him the way nothing his dad ever did. After four days he’d started begging; he'd finally broken.   
* * * * *  
“Cas, please talk to me.” Dean stood in front of him, refusing to move. Cas just put his head down and tried to go around.   
“Please Cas, I'll do anything. I'm so sorry. Just talk to me. Anything. Yell. I don't care.”  
Cas stilled, but didn't look up.   
“One word. Please.”  
“You'll do anything?” Cas said slowly.  
“Yes.”  
“Don't do that again.” Cas said, his eyes blazing.   
“Ok. Ok, I won't. It was a dumb idea. I know that.”  
“You need rehab.”  
Dean ducked his head, and rubbed the back of his neck.   
“I can't... I don't have the money.”  
Cas looked away, his mouth angry.   
Dean put his hands up, frightened Cas would walk away.  
“But I can sweat it out. I can do that. Just stay with me. I've watched my dad do it. I know I can't do it alone. But if you stay with me, I can. I promise.”  
Cas looked at him and nodded. He kept looking and Dean stared right back. Dean felt something in his chest ease.   
* * * * *  
Dean put his head in his hands, remembering. That week had been one of the worst weeks of his life, pure torture, and Cas had stayed with him the whole time.   
He’d helped him afterward too, til he found a job with Bobby, helping with his salvage business and working as a part time mechanic.   
And there was the band. Cas and he wrote through all of it, good and bad. Whatever they were, whether they were talking or not, the music was always good, even if it wasn’t always what they expected. Mostly they wrote rock, though there were a couple of punk songs and even a country song. Still, it was pretty clear after a while that if they were going to play their music, it wouldn’t be as a punk band.   
They’d fought about it, Castiel hanging on to his damn trenchcoat like a lifeline, like that defined who he was as an artist.   
“It’s punk.”  
“But we’re not punk. We’re rock.”  
“So what, Dean, you want me to dress like I’m in a hair band?”  
Dean laughed. “Hey, you can keep the eyeliner. Gotta show off those baby blues. But yeah. Dress like you’re proud of our music – of your ink – of what we do.”  
“I am proud.”  
“Then show it. Come on. Let’s just sexify your image. A little. Enough so we can get noticed. I know it’s bullshit man, but image counts in this business.”  
Castiel scowled and cross his arms. “I don’t know how.” He muttered sulkily.   
“Yeah, right, pretty boy.”  
“Look who’s talking, twink” Gabriel called from the other room.  
“Whatever, short stack. Help me out here. Your brother wants to be a rock star, but he doesn't want to look the part.”  
Gabriel poked his head into the room, clearly amused. “Seems like you've got something in mind?”  
Dean's mouth opened and he licked his lips, looking at Cas.  
“Might be.”  
“Let me guess? Plaid?” Gabriel asked dryly. “He's going to look like a reject from a Pearl Jam concert. Grunge is dead. And I'm sorry, but Cas really can't pull off the backwards baseball cap look.”   
Cas snorted his agreement.   
Dean looked down. “No, I was thinking classic rock star. Black leather. Bling. You know. “  
“Heh.” Gabriel said. “You want to turn him into a human version of your car. Hmmmm let me see, 60's era, dark-haired rock star … hey, Cas could probably pull off Elvis. Like the front man for The Darkness. I can see the white polyester jumpsuit now. Bedazzled.”  
Dean looked at Cas, who was smiling. Dean scowled.   
“No way, Cas. Please. No.”


	7. Chapter 6:  Hospital. Today. Those who know us.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel gets involved.

Cas stared at the floor. When the nurse requested that he lift his head, she smiled weakly at his despondent gaze.   
“Almost done, “ she said, “and your brother…”  
“Is here.” announced Gabriel. He came through the door with a flourish, hoisting an Easter basket full of candy purchased at a dollar store.  
Cas turned his head away, staring at the wall.   
“Cassie. “ Gabe said sadly. “Talk to me.”  
Cas took in a breath. “Can I work at your shop? ”  
“Work at my shop? What are you talking about, bro? I know you finished the tour. Last night, yeah? Things got a little crazy at the after party, huh? That's why you ended up accidentally walking into the ocean...right?” Gabe's voice started out puzzled, then slid to good-natured disapproval, before sliding on to worry, as Castiel's face didn't react.   
“I’m quitting music.”  
“Oh. Little early for a midlife crisis, isn’t it? You’re barely thirty.”  
Cas just glared. “Can I? Work at the shop?”

“ Sure. Why not throw your life away.”  
Cas stared at the wall, not meeting his eyes. “Thanks Gabe.”   
Shaking his head, Gabriel looked down, clearly fighting the urge to say something.   
“You're ok though, right Cas? This isn't like...the last time I had to visit you in the hospital.” Gabriel said it lightly, but his tone was brittle and his eyes intense.   
Cas met his eyes and breathed in. “You don't have to worry.”   
Gabriel nodded, but he didn't leave. He stayed with Cas, who was listless and wordless, for two hours before excusing himself to go back to the shop. Leaving, he caught sight of Dean sitting in the waiting area, and strode over.   
“Oh, look who it is…what the HELL did you do?”  
Dean started guiltily. “What did Cas say? Is he gonna be ok?”  
Gabe stared at him. “Oh. You did something, “ he said somberly. “Cas is quitting the band. No, better, he’s quitting music entirely. He wants to come work for me. ” Gabriel quirked an eyebrow at Dean, waiting for his response.  
Shock flickered over Dean's features and then he rolled his head back with a disbelieving smirk. “Yeah, right. He’s pissed. He’s just yanking your chain.”  
Gabe stood, hands on hips.  
“What the hell did you do, Deano?”  
Dean looked away.  
“What!”  
“I just...I kissed him. On stage – then … well after... he seemed upset... so I told him it wasn't anything. He took off and I followed him. “  
Gabriel visibly started grinding his teeth.  
“I said I was sorry. But he... he kissed me and ...walked into the ocean.”   
Dean stared back helplessly and shrugged, his usual cocky demeanor stripped away.  
“So you kissed him and you told him it was nothing.” Gabriel dragged his hands down his face and groaned. “I can’t believe it. Could you BE more of a fucking idiot.”  
“Hey! ”  
Gabriel sank down into a chair and started laughing helplessly. “He said you didn’t know. I thought there was no way you could possibly be that clueless. But look, I was wrong! You really have no idea.”  
Dean’s face constricted with concern. “What are you talkin’ about, jackass? What don’t I know?”  
“My brother is in love with you. L- o – v- e. Love! You know – that thing that makes people act like complete jackassess?”  
‘Yeah, right.” Dean scoffed.  
“Are you serious right now? How can you not know this?” Gabriel sighed in exasperation. “Has anyone been there for you like he has? Has anyone done more for you?”  
Dean looked up at this, defiant. “It's like Bobby says: “Family don't end in blood. He's family.”  
Gabriel laughed. “Maybe; but we aren't redneck enough for the way Cas looks at you. Not the way you look at him either. C'mon Dean, you kissed him.”  
Dean looked down, raising a hand to ruffle his mohawk awkwardly. “Hey, I'll kiss anybody.”   
“You tell me that Cas is just anybody and I'm going to deck you.” Gabriel said seriously. “Dammit, Dean, I don't know what you think you were doing. But you are going to fix it.”  
“Gabe, I don't think I can...”  
“Fix it!” Gabe ordered, getting up to leave.


End file.
